


A Circus

by MistoffLikeKristoff



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Cats - Freilichtspiele Tecklenburg (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Anal Sex, Don't Like Don't Read, Filthy, Incest, M/M, Not Beta Read, Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest, Tecklenburg Non-replica, just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25491349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistoffLikeKristoff/pseuds/MistoffLikeKristoff
Summary: Unapologetic Tugger/Munk smut; mind the tags, friends!
Relationships: Munkustrap/Rum Tum Tugger
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	A Circus

**Author's Note:**

> The Tecklenburg non-replica production really hits differently! I've never considered this ship before but I //felt// it here. If you did too, please enjoy this filth with me.
> 
> Apologies to Germany. The whole country.

Before he had time to moan or beg or anything that embarrassing, his pants had already been pulled down, unceremoniously pooling around his ankles. Tugger felt enormous pressed up against his back, a thin sheen of sweat on his torso, probably less having to do with their current activities than the energetic dancing he’d been engaged in throughout the Jellicle Ball.

“Oh god, right there,” Munkustrap whispered as Tugger’s nimble fingers circled his opening, teasing ever so briefly before slipping inside, simultaneously too much and not enough. He was already so hard. When had he gotten so hard? He grunted as a second finger was added.

“Why are you so tight?”, Tugger breathed into Munk’s ear, meant to mock but coming out halfway serious. “I guess I need to treat you better.”

Munkustrap keened at his ministrations, trying to prop himself up against a tentpole to not let on that his knees were about to buckle. “You know it’s, mmm, it’s been awhile,” he snapped (and groaned) by way of explanation, trying to maintain some dignity.

The sounds of singing Jellicle cats filled the air around them, celebrating a successful Ball and enjoying a little after-party. Tugger had dragged Munk into the circus tent for a little privacy, but the party was loud and raucous, with merriment let loose throughout the grounds. The fear of being discovered was real, and thrilling.

“Yes, yes,” Tugger purred, “you’re always so busy cleaning up the tribe’s messes, it’s hard to pin you down.” He punctuated his words with a twist of his fingers, drawing more gasps from Munk. Munk’s back arched reflexively, pushing back into the contact. “It’s much more fun being the son who doesn’t give a shit.”

“Liar,” said Munkustrap, looking over his shoulder to meet Tugger’s eyes, “you pretend like it isn’t part of you, but I know you actually care.” 

He chuckled in response, sending shivers down Munk’s spine. “Okay, okay, guilty as charged.” Munk’s stomach tied in knots at the dueling sensations of Tugger’s fingers inside him, his breath on his neck; fingers that seemed impossibly long, stroking in and out with uncharacteristic precision. Without any urging, Munkustrap spread his legs a little wider, noises falling from his lips just a little needier, sound floating only for Tugger over the din of the other cats’ revelry.

Tugger removed his fingers with a flourish, satisfied with his stretching job and ready for the next course. Tugger stroked lube-slick hands over Munkustrap’s chest, pinching his nipples with more bite than necessary. Irritating, soothing: typical Tugger.

“Tugger, don’t tease, this night has-- ahh-- this night has already been long enough.”

“You said yourself, it’s been awhile,” Tugger’s smirk was audible. “I might like to savor this a bit.”

Munkustrap was honestly ready to turn around and punch him in his smug face when he felt those strong hands around his waist, the head of Tugger’s dick nudging his asshole-- the moan that ripped out of his chest seemed like it came from someone else, far away.

He was panting and whimpering as Tugger sank in deep, unfailingly deep, and he knew he should manage some decorum but it really _had_ been awhile and the pleasure was threatening to shatter him to pieces. Tugger pressed himself against Munk’s back, skin on skin, giving him a moment to get used to the sensation of fullness.

“You smell so nice, what’s your secret?”, Tugger asked, mouthing against his shoulder, with too much sincerity for the situation. 

Munk was struck by the impulse to punch him again.

But before he could retort, Tugger was moving, thrusting, wrapping a hand around Munk’s dick with casual confidence. Munk’s hips stuttered in response, trying in vain to move towards the dual pleasures at once. “Oh, that’s a tight fit,” Tugger murmured, his exhaled breath tingling the sensitive spot behind Munk’s ear. Tugger pulled himself almost entirely out before burying himself in Munk’s warmth, rocking his hips to get them both used to the friction, the pleasure.

Munkustrap felt heat wash over him in waves. His legs trembled as Tugger set an aggressive pace, little whimpers escaping as his mouth fell open, “Don’t stop” and “Ah!” and “More” and “I mean it, don’t you dare fucking stop”.

“Shhh,” Tugger nuzzled against Munk’s shoulder, mane tickling his cheek, “You take care of the tribe, I’ll take care of you.” He sped up his thrusts, filling Munk up exquisitely, preventing him from catching his breath or speaking or thinking or worrying and honestly it’s exactly what he needed. The sounds of jubilant Jellicles faded and Munk could only hear Tugger’s huffs of breath, the sound of skin on skin, his own hammering heartbeat.

When he came, it was like the tent went white, a ragged moan torn from his throat, stars behind his eyes. He surely would have fallen to his knees if Tugger wasn’t holding him up with one arm across his waist, the other issuing firm strokes on his penis, drawing out every drop until Munk swatted him away from the oversensitized skin. 

Munk gasped for breath, bearing down to apply just enough pressure to push Tugger over the edge, and he felt his body flooded with hot come as Tugger groaned his enthusiastic approval. Unwound with afterglow, they stayed like that for a heartbeat before Tugger drew out, and Munk wrestled to pull his pants back up. They both slumped to the dusty circus floor. 

For long moments, they sat side by side, leaning against one another, letting their breathing return to normal. Munkustrap could hear Jenny outside leading the kittens in a pub song. It really had been a night for the ages, hadn’t it.

Tugger ran a hand through his own hair, then tousled Munk’s playfully. “Nice work, Leader.”

Sated, Munk only gathered the energy to roll his eyes. “I hate you so much.”

Tugger nudged him in the ribs. “So, which staff did you enjoy receiving tonight more, Old Deut’s or mine?” He waggled his eyebrows to punctuate the terrible, absolutely horrendous joke. 

This time, Munk did punch him.


End file.
